Come Little Ducklings
by Shadougelover14
Summary: Happy Halloween Fanfiction! Enjoy this dive into my twisted insanity! Come little children, I'll take thee away...


Sooo, in this story, Quackerjack doesn't know Paddywhack. Hey, if other fandoms can do it, so can I. Enjoy!

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_'It's not real...it's just a bad dream...'_

This was the mantra Quackerjack had been repeating in his head for about an hour as he sat on his bed in his multicolored pajamas. His room was lit up like a Christmas tree, not allowing a single shadow to form. It was a good thing his hideout was in the sewer, otherwise all the light would have been noticed by now.

_'Just a bad dream...' _

He glanced at his clock, which read 11:40 PM, and let out a sigh. For the last two weeks he'd been repeating this process; turning on every light in his room, leaping into bed from wherever he was, and chanting the same sentences until he fell asleep.

Everyone said he was just imagining things, that he was finally losing whatever sanity he had left, but he knew he wasn't, he _saw _that...that thing. It was following him, he could feel it watching him all the time. It would be nothing but a blur in his peripheral, and vanish when he looked for it. This had caused him a brief bout of trouble with Negaduck when it happened during a heist at the museum, and it was only Megavolt's reminding of Quackerjack's insanity that saved him from the angry mallard's chainsaw.

However, when it continued to happened, everyone thought it best for Quackerjack to take a small vacation. Only, it seemed to be hurting more than it was helping. The sightings had increased, and every once and awhile he swore he felt something breathing on the back of his neck. Then the nightmares had started. They were what kept him up at night, dreading sleep, and only added to his paranoia. For the most part they were different, but they all ended the same; _it _would catch him, and the fear he felt would always wake him up. Quackerjack wasn't sure how much more he could take of this...

A yawn broke his thoughts, and he heaved another sigh as he laid down and pulled the blanket over himself.

"It's not real...it's all...just a bad dream..." He mumbled, hugging Mr. Banana Brain tightly. At least _he _knew Quackerjack wasn't crazy...

_"Get some shut eye, Sai." _

"I know...keep watch...okay...?"

His companion saluted him, and Quackerjack took one last, slow look around the room, before his eyes closed, and he slipped into slumber...

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_He was running; where, he didn't know, it was pitch black all around, but he knew if he stopped, it was all over. _

**_Come little children, I'll take thee away,_**

**_Into a land of enchantment_**

_The song and voice seemed to follow him as he ran through the darkness. He'd heard them before in his other nightmares, and by now he knew every word of the song. _

**_Come little children, the time's come to play,_**

**_Here In my garden of shadows..._**

_His feet tangled together, and he toppled to the invisible floor. Almost immediately, hands grabbed him, and rolled him over as he yelled and fought against its hold. His flailing arms were soon pinned down, and he was eye to eye with the thing._

_"You can't escape, me...little clown."_

_He flinched as drool hit his face, and looked away with a whimper as it continued speaking. This was the part where he was supposed to wake up, why wasn't he?_

_"You'll NEVER escape me..."_

_Something wet pressed and moved against his face, leaving a trail of saliva behind. His eyes snapped open, and found its red eyes to be mere centimeters from his. A scream tore its way from his throat as he kicked and squirmed, but the monster's grip was too strong. The eyes moved away, before several sharp objects sunk into his chest, enticing another scream. His movement didn't seem to jar the objects, and they held firm. _

_"I'll be seeing you soooon..." The voice taunted, drawing out the last word teasingly. Laughter joined his screaming, and the dark world collapsed in on itself, drowning him in a wave darkness and pain. _

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Quackerjack awoke with a yell, lurching into a sitting position and gasping for air. He looked around, and was relieved to find himself in his brightly lit room.

_"Another nightmare, Claire?" _Mr. Banana Brain asked.

"Yes...it seemed more real than the others, though-"

A loud crack cut him off, and the room seemed to tremble as low rumbling followed.

"Must be that storm Megavolt was talking about yesterday. Hopefully there won't be a-"

There was another loud crack, and the lights flickered, before going out.

"Blackout..."

Quackerjack huffed, before reaching towards the spot his nightstand presumedly was, and grabbing a cylindrical object. With a click, the flashlight came on, illuminating a small area of the room.

"Better go start up the back up generator; coming Mr. Banana Brain?"

_"Do I have a choice, Joyce?"_

"Nope."

He slipped on his red shoes, jumped out of bed, and headed out of the room. Thunder roared overhead as he made his way through the sewer, nervously eying his surroundings as he went. He hated storms; they were loud and made everything dark.

"Of all the nights for a blackout..." He mumbled.

_"It'll be okay, you're almost there."_

"Right..."

He could see the hall where the generator was located up ahead in the beam of light, and his relief was slowly growing.

"...heh heh..."

Laughter brought him to a stop, and he shone the flashlight around to try and find its origin.

"...H-Hello...?"

He heard another soft snicker, and he gulped, before rushing towards the hallway. He'd just turned the corner, when something hit his leg and sent him tumbling to the floor. The flashlight flew from his hand, and rolled further down the hall. He pushed himself up with a moan, and looked around for whatever had tripped him. Of course, he saw nothing. He glanced at the flashlight up ahead, and slowly got up and made his way over to it. He picked it up, waved it around a few times to check the area, and continued towards the generator. He thought he heard more laughter, but it was too faint for him to be sure.

He messed around with the buttons, before giving the contraption a hard kick, and it hummed to life, bringing the lights back on. Quackerjack gave a sigh of relief, and leaned against it as he tried regain his bearings.

_'Everything's fine...you're just being paranoid because of the nightmare...'_

Now he just had to go back to bed and he'd be better by morning-

_**Follow sweet children, I'll show thee the way...**_

He went rigid as the familiar song echoed around him. It...it couldn't be real...he...he had to be hallucinating...

_**Through all the pain and the sorrows...**_

"Shut up..." He mumbled, not really sure who he was talking to. He pulled on the ends of his hat, and he was aware that he was shaking horribly. Sweat was forming on his hands and forehead.

_**Weep not poor children, for life is this way**_

_**Murdering beauty and passions...**_

"SHUT UP, SHUT UP!" He shouted, hands clamped over his ears. He heard more laughter, and it seemed to be coming from everywhere at once.

"SHUT! UP!"

All at once everything was silent, and he looked around anxiously. For a minute, nothing happened; then, the light overhead exploded, sparks and glass raining down as Quackerjack rushed out of the way with a yelp. He scrambled out of the hall, and raced down the sewer tunnel for a few feet before coming to a stop to catch his breath.

'What...was that?' He wondered, looking back curiously. As he did so, a shadow moved in the corner of his eye, and he froze. He heard giggling, and whipped around in a circle as he tried to find the cause.

"Who-Who's there?!"

"You knooow meee..."

The voice chilled him to the core, and he let out a whimper as he moved in a slow circle.

"You SHOULD know me...we've been playing together for two weeks now."

"Y-You're not real...it's just a bad dream..."

"Is that sooo...?"

The lights suddenly dimmed, and he felt something drip on his head. Another chill traveled up his spine, and he slowly turned around as he wiped whatever it was off. He was met with a tall duck, and drool was falling from its mouth. His eyes met its red ones, and Quackerjack let out a scream as he scrambled backwards. He stumbled and fell, and before he could get up, his arms were pinned down again like in his nightmare.

"Do you still think me a bad dream, little clown?" It asked. Quackerjack whimpered in response.

"It's just a bad dream, it's not real, it's not real..."

The thing snickered again as it crouched over him.

"Oh really; could 'just a bad dream' do _this_?"

Quackerjack glanced at the monstrous duck, whose eyes motioned for him to look down. He reluctantly did so, and felt his blood run cold; there were several teeth marks on his chest and side, the same spots he'd been bitten in his nightmare. He locked eyes again with the monster again, and it sneered down at him with sharp teeth, some of which had dried blood on them.

Seconds later, Quackerjack let out another scream, and kicked out at the monster. He made contact with its mouth, and he was released as it shouted with pained fury. The toy maker quickly got to his feet and took off down the tunnel.

Somehow, he made it back to his room, and slammed the door shut behind him. He put as many things as he could in front of it in hopes they would keep the demonic being out; his nightstand, his toy chest, a work table he'd use when he couldn't sleep, and anything else he could find. He took a few steps back, panting, and stared at the door. Everything was silent, except for the thunder clapping above ground.

He looked at his chest again, and examined the injuries; they weren't too deep, but enough to draw blood, which was crusted around the edges of the wounds. They didn't hurt either, which would explain why he hadn't noticed them before. Whatever this monster was, he was sick, but confusing; what reason did he have to bite toy maker?

However, Quackerjack's thoughts were soon derailed.

**_Hush now dear children, it must be this way_**

**_To weary of life and deceptions..._**

The monster's voice was getting louder, and Quackerjack backed away from the door with a whimper.

"Who are you?! _What _are you?!" He shouted.

"Me? I am the monster under your bed...

I am the noises you hear in your room at night...

I am the fear that haunts the darkest corners of your mind...

I am...Paddywhack..."

The lights in the room flickered, and Quackerjack noted with rising terror that he no longer had the flashlight; he'd left it back near the generator.

"Wh-what do you want?!"

"I want you; and so long as you're marked, you'll never escape from me..."

'_Marked?'_

Quackerjack cocked his head a little in confusion, before looking at the bite marks again, and realization dawned. Shuddering, he crossed his arms over the injuries, and stammered out,

"W-Why me?"

"You were amusing..."

The lights flickered again, and Quackerjack noted they seemed to take longer to come back on this time.

"And I enjoyed teasing your sanity. Although, you're already quite mad to begin with...but...I like that in a clown..."

Quackerjack swallowed as he took another step back from the door. As he did so, he caught movement on the floor, and he looked down. He only had seconds to realize it was a black clothed arm before the lights went out, and a large hand grabbed his ankle and pulled him under his bed as he screamed and clawed at the floor.

The only thing he could see were two glowing red eyes, and he screamed as he kicked and punched at them. He was soon restrained - by what, he couldn't tell - and a hand closed around his beak, cutting off his screams and forcing him to look into the other's eyes. The eyes seemed to brighten in a hypnotic pattern, and he found he couldn't look away. He was barely aware of anything else, and was completely frozen as Paddywhack murmured the last verse of that chilling song:

**_Rest now my children, for soon we'll away_**

**_Into the calm and the quiet..._**

Then, his consciousness left him...

...

...

...

Quackerjack wasn't sure how long he'd been here; there was no way of keeping track of time. There were no windows, clocks, not even a calendar; just darkness. Pitch black darkness, except for the dim light from somewhere overhead that lit up the cage he was in, as well as a couple of other ones hanging around him. There were no occupants, only an item or two: a shoe, a nightcap, and a stuffed bear. There had been others before him, and, even though he knew he wouldn't like the the answer, Quackerjack asked what had happened to them anyway. Paddywhack had been more than delighted to respond.

"You know all those stories about man-eating monsters?" He asked.

Quackerjack gave a hesitant nod as a chill formed in his stomach. Paddywhack grinned, revealing his sharp teeth, and tilted the toy maker's head up a little.

"Well...they're true."

Quackerjack stared at him for a moment, eyes slowly widening in horror, before throwing himself backwards into the other side of the cage.

"No, no, no, no, please no..." He whimpered.

Paddywhack vanished with a laugh, and materialized behind the toy maker, reached through the bars, and gripped the smaller duck's arms.

"Don't worry, little clown; by the time you're ready, you'll be begging me to end your suffering." The demon stated, before giving the side of Quackerjack's head a slow lick. There was a split second of silence, before Quackerjack started screaming and trying to pull himself from Paddywhack's grasp. The demonic spirit released him, and the jester fell forward into the center of the cage, where he proceeded to curl into a trembling ball and begin sobbing.

"No, no, no, God no..."

Paddywhack faded into the darkness with a harsh laugh.

Quackerjack didn't know how long ago that had been, or how long it would be until Paddywhack deemed him ready. All he knew now was that no amount of begging, bartering, or outright sobbing was going to save him. And no one knew where he was, either; he wondered if they even knew he was gone at all.

There were only two things that made up his life now: Paddywhack's twisted definition of playtime...

...and that song...

**_Come little children, I'll take thee away_**

**_Into a land of enchantment..._**

**_Come little children, the time's come to play,_**

**_Here in my garden of shaaaadooows..._**

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I know I have other stuff to work on, but it's Halloween and I thought, "I should do something creepy."

Since I'm in the DWD fandom right now, I decided to go with the creepiest guy in it: Paddywhack. And Who else but Quackerjack could co-star with him in a creepy fic?

And lastly, there had to be a creepy song involved; now, just imagine Phil Hartman doing Paddywhack's voice and singing Come Little Children...you're welcome for the nightmares that you may have. ^^

Leave a review, and **HAPPY HALLOWEEN!**


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